Fic: Canoe Believe It?
Title: Canoe Believe It?
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1414
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: As a break from their busy lives hauling cargo from world to world, Jack suggests a holiday afloat.
Written For: Weekend Challenge Things To Do In August at 1_million_words, using ‘Try out a canoe’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Set in my Ghost of a Chance ‘Verse. Apologies for the title, I was in a punny mood.
Vacationing on alien planets was always an adventure; Ianto never quite knew what he was letting himself in for, but he supposed that was part of the fun. Well, Jack seemed to think so. He delighted in introducing Ianto to all manner of weird alien pastimes, like throwing themselves bodily off a cliff on a low gravity planet where they glided on the wind wearing specially designed suits, or walking on the bottom of an alien ocean in something that vaguely resembled one of those hamster exercise balls.
The first had actually turned out to be rather exhilarating, while the second had been fascinating once Ianto had got over his initial sense of claustrophobia. Those were just two examples of the many adventures Ianto never could have experienced in quite the same way back on earth; hang gliding and scuba diving, both of which he’d tried before, didn’t even come close.
On this occasion, Jack had brought him to a world without oceans that was one large landmass criss-crossed by hundreds of rivers connecting dozens of large but relatively shallow lakes. Almost all travel was by water or on foot, although there were large three-legged birds vaguely resembling ostriches that were used for riding, and for pulling small carriages, and larger beasts of burden that looked a bit like hairy hippos, if hippos had six legs, ears like a donkey, and were striped yellow and green.
All hotels on Pelargam were situated on the banks of waterways, or the shores of lakes, as were most towns. The individual buildings were quaint, designed to look rather like large mushrooms, with wide, overhanging roofs sheltering verandas that went all the way around. None of the structures were more than two storeys high. After they’d arrived the previous day, they’d spent the night in one of the hotels, renting a room on the second floor, with windows looking out from just above the edge of the roof. It had been surprisingly modern inside, and far more luxurious than Ianto had expected. Five-star hotel kind of luxurious, with a huge, soft bed, private bathing facilities, room service, and everything.
Now, on the first morning of their twenty-day vacation, Jack led the way out onto the hotel’s jetty, his backpack slung casually over one shoulder and a flat object he’d bought at the spaceport soon after their arrival tucked under one arm.
“What is that thing anyway?” Ianto asked, hoisting his own pack onto his back, and wondering whether there was some sort of river bus service they’d be using to travel around and see the sights. So far, Jack had been suspiciously quiet about how they’d be spending their time, which wasn’t unusual; Ianto had long since accepted that surprising him was Jack’s mission in life.
“It’s our canoe,” Jack explained, setting the object down at the end of the jetty and beginning to unfold it.
“Canoe? That?” Surely Jack didn’t mean they’d be travelling in something that looked as insubstantial as an empty yogurt pot, and almost as small.
“It’s made from molecular-bonded, tribidium-reinforced silicon. Lightweight, flexible, and stronger than steel, impervious to even the sharpest knife, and guaranteed unsinkable.”
“But it’s tiny!”
Jack grinned. “You say that now, but just wait until I finish setting it up.”
Ianto could only stand there, watching as Jack continued to unfold the canoe until it must have been a good twelve feet in length. Then he tugged at something that made it spring open all along the straight edge, turning what had looked like a flat, blueish sheet of translucent plastic into a recognisable boat, complete with keel. It was widest in the middle, tapering towards each end, the bow to a blunt point, and the stern to something a little rounder and wider.
“Wow!” It was the only response Ianto could come up with.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Jack teased, laughing at his lover’s astonished expression as he clipped a small device he’d taken from a nearby rack onto the rear of the canoe.
“What’s that?”
“Combined power pack and rudder,” Jack explained. “We can use paddles if you prefer; I bought a couple, collapsible like the canoe, they’re in my backpack. But the power pack makes things a lot easier when travelling against the current, which we’ll be doing at least half the time. Wherever we stop, we just hand it in for recharging and take a fresh one off the rack; it’s a practical arrangement since everyone needs them to get around. There’s no charge.”
Not that it would have mattered if there had been, it wasn’t as if they couldn’t have afforded it. They made good money in the haulage business, and Jack was independently wealthy anyway.
“And you’re sure this fold-up canoe is seaworthy, lakeworthy, whatever?”
By way of a reply, Jack simply pointed out across the lake to where an almost identical canoe, this one a translucent pale yellow, was gliding across the glassy calm water, leaving scarcely a ripple in its wake.
“See for yourself. These canoes are the most popular form of transport for both tourists and the locals. They’re completely portable, easy to steer, and designed so they can’t be tipped over. Not that it would matter in most cases if they did happen to capsize, the waters are warm, and mostly shallow. The only drowning on record was some idiot who got blind drunk and fell off a veranda face first into a three-inch deep puddle in the middle of the night, when there was nobody around to rescue him. I like to believe we have more sense than to do something like that.”
“I think that’s a given, considering everything we survived working for Torchwood.” It was also a moot point, since they were both immortal and even if they did have the misfortune to drown, it wouldn’t be more than a temporary inconvenience.
“Shall we head out then?” Jack picked their canoe up in one hand and tossed it off the side of the jetty.
“Jack! What’re you doing?” Ianto suddenly had visions of their transport drifting away on the slow current.
“Relax, Ianto. I moored it first.” Jack gestured to a pair of thin cords attached to the bow and stern of the canoe and looped around a couple of posts at the jetty’s edge. “Drop you pack in and climb down after it. There’s a ladder.” He tossed his own pack casually into the bottom of the boat, which hardly rocked.
Still feeling a bit wary, because he didn’t understand how something that appeared so fragile could withstand such careless treatment, he dropped his pack into the centre of the canoe and swung himself onto the ladder, climbing down three rungs before stepping into the boat. It felt surprisingly solid beneath his feet. Moments later, Jack joined him, having unhitched both lines and kept hold of the stern line to keep the canoe in close while he negotiated the ladder.
“Water level’s a bit low here on Lake Willamon at this time of year. It’s the dry season in the interior,” he explained. “Most of the time we’ll be able to get aboard before we cast off. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” Ianto shifted into a more comfortable position on the low bench that had popped up amidships, half expecting it to collapse beneath his weight, as Jack settled onto the bench in the stern, taking charge of the rudder. He started the motor, or whatever the power source was, a faint vibration thrumming through the canoe, and then they were moving purposefully away from the jetty onto the open water. For the first couple of minutes, Ianto held his breath, waiting for disaster to befall them, but when nothing untoward happened, he gradually relaxed.
“So, where are we heading?”
“That river over there, the middle one.” Jack pointed to several channels entering the lake a few hundred yards away.
“And where will that take us?”
“Towards the mountains.” Jack was grinning. “I’ve heard the scenery up that way is particularly beautiful, and there are lots of small villages we can stop at. Relax and enjoy the ride. Later on, you can take a turn at steering; it’s a lot easier than flying a cargo ship.”
Smiling, enjoying the fresh air and the glorious sunshine, Ianto did as he was told, letting one hand trail in the warm, unexpectedly clear water. What could be more restful than drifting down, or up, a river?
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1414
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: As a break from their busy lives hauling cargo from world to world, Jack suggests a holiday afloat.
Written For: Weekend Challenge Things To Do In August at 1_million_words, using ‘Try out a canoe’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Set in my Ghost of a Chance ‘Verse. Apologies for the title, I was in a punny mood.
Vacationing on alien planets was always an adventure; Ianto never quite knew what he was letting himself in for, but he supposed that was part of the fun. Well, Jack seemed to think so. He delighted in introducing Ianto to all manner of weird alien pastimes, like throwing themselves bodily off a cliff on a low gravity planet where they glided on the wind wearing specially designed suits, or walking on the bottom of an alien ocean in something that vaguely resembled one of those hamster exercise balls.
The first had actually turned out to be rather exhilarating, while the second had been fascinating once Ianto had got over his initial sense of claustrophobia. Those were just two examples of the many adventures Ianto never could have experienced in quite the same way back on earth; hang gliding and scuba diving, both of which he’d tried before, didn’t even come close.
On this occasion, Jack had brought him to a world without oceans that was one large landmass criss-crossed by hundreds of rivers connecting dozens of large but relatively shallow lakes. Almost all travel was by water or on foot, although there were large three-legged birds vaguely resembling ostriches that were used for riding, and for pulling small carriages, and larger beasts of burden that looked a bit like hairy hippos, if hippos had six legs, ears like a donkey, and were striped yellow and green.
All hotels on Pelargam were situated on the banks of waterways, or the shores of lakes, as were most towns. The individual buildings were quaint, designed to look rather like large mushrooms, with wide, overhanging roofs sheltering verandas that went all the way around. None of the structures were more than two storeys high. After they’d arrived the previous day, they’d spent the night in one of the hotels, renting a room on the second floor, with windows looking out from just above the edge of the roof. It had been surprisingly modern inside, and far more luxurious than Ianto had expected. Five-star hotel kind of luxurious, with a huge, soft bed, private bathing facilities, room service, and everything.
Now, on the first morning of their twenty-day vacation, Jack led the way out onto the hotel’s jetty, his backpack slung casually over one shoulder and a flat object he’d bought at the spaceport soon after their arrival tucked under one arm.
“What is that thing anyway?” Ianto asked, hoisting his own pack onto his back, and wondering whether there was some sort of river bus service they’d be using to travel around and see the sights. So far, Jack had been suspiciously quiet about how they’d be spending their time, which wasn’t unusual; Ianto had long since accepted that surprising him was Jack’s mission in life.
“It’s our canoe,” Jack explained, setting the object down at the end of the jetty and beginning to unfold it.
“Canoe? That?” Surely Jack didn’t mean they’d be travelling in something that looked as insubstantial as an empty yogurt pot, and almost as small.
“It’s made from molecular-bonded, tribidium-reinforced silicon. Lightweight, flexible, and stronger than steel, impervious to even the sharpest knife, and guaranteed unsinkable.”
“But it’s tiny!”
Jack grinned. “You say that now, but just wait until I finish setting it up.”
Ianto could only stand there, watching as Jack continued to unfold the canoe until it must have been a good twelve feet in length. Then he tugged at something that made it spring open all along the straight edge, turning what had looked like a flat, blueish sheet of translucent plastic into a recognisable boat, complete with keel. It was widest in the middle, tapering towards each end, the bow to a blunt point, and the stern to something a little rounder and wider.
“Wow!” It was the only response Ianto could come up with.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Jack teased, laughing at his lover’s astonished expression as he clipped a small device he’d taken from a nearby rack onto the rear of the canoe.
“What’s that?”
“Combined power pack and rudder,” Jack explained. “We can use paddles if you prefer; I bought a couple, collapsible like the canoe, they’re in my backpack. But the power pack makes things a lot easier when travelling against the current, which we’ll be doing at least half the time. Wherever we stop, we just hand it in for recharging and take a fresh one off the rack; it’s a practical arrangement since everyone needs them to get around. There’s no charge.”
Not that it would have mattered if there had been, it wasn’t as if they couldn’t have afforded it. They made good money in the haulage business, and Jack was independently wealthy anyway.
“And you’re sure this fold-up canoe is seaworthy, lakeworthy, whatever?”
By way of a reply, Jack simply pointed out across the lake to where an almost identical canoe, this one a translucent pale yellow, was gliding across the glassy calm water, leaving scarcely a ripple in its wake.
“See for yourself. These canoes are the most popular form of transport for both tourists and the locals. They’re completely portable, easy to steer, and designed so they can’t be tipped over. Not that it would matter in most cases if they did happen to capsize, the waters are warm, and mostly shallow. The only drowning on record was some idiot who got blind drunk and fell off a veranda face first into a three-inch deep puddle in the middle of the night, when there was nobody around to rescue him. I like to believe we have more sense than to do something like that.”
“I think that’s a given, considering everything we survived working for Torchwood.” It was also a moot point, since they were both immortal and even if they did have the misfortune to drown, it wouldn’t be more than a temporary inconvenience.
“Shall we head out then?” Jack picked their canoe up in one hand and tossed it off the side of the jetty.
“Jack! What’re you doing?” Ianto suddenly had visions of their transport drifting away on the slow current.
“Relax, Ianto. I moored it first.” Jack gestured to a pair of thin cords attached to the bow and stern of the canoe and looped around a couple of posts at the jetty’s edge. “Drop you pack in and climb down after it. There’s a ladder.” He tossed his own pack casually into the bottom of the boat, which hardly rocked.
Still feeling a bit wary, because he didn’t understand how something that appeared so fragile could withstand such careless treatment, he dropped his pack into the centre of the canoe and swung himself onto the ladder, climbing down three rungs before stepping into the boat. It felt surprisingly solid beneath his feet. Moments later, Jack joined him, having unhitched both lines and kept hold of the stern line to keep the canoe in close while he negotiated the ladder.
“Water level’s a bit low here on Lake Willamon at this time of year. It’s the dry season in the interior,” he explained. “Most of the time we’ll be able to get aboard before we cast off. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” Ianto shifted into a more comfortable position on the low bench that had popped up amidships, half expecting it to collapse beneath his weight, as Jack settled onto the bench in the stern, taking charge of the rudder. He started the motor, or whatever the power source was, a faint vibration thrumming through the canoe, and then they were moving purposefully away from the jetty onto the open water. For the first couple of minutes, Ianto held his breath, waiting for disaster to befall them, but when nothing untoward happened, he gradually relaxed.
“So, where are we heading?”
“That river over there, the middle one.” Jack pointed to several channels entering the lake a few hundred yards away.
“And where will that take us?”
“Towards the mountains.” Jack was grinning. “I’ve heard the scenery up that way is particularly beautiful, and there are lots of small villages we can stop at. Relax and enjoy the ride. Later on, you can take a turn at steering; it’s a lot easier than flying a cargo ship.”
Smiling, enjoying the fresh air and the glorious sunshine, Ianto did as he was told, letting one hand trail in the warm, unexpectedly clear water. What could be more restful than drifting down, or up, a river?
The End